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Recently published my latest ebook. And now set up my facebook page under Stan De Mann.

Saturday 4 May 2013

The Parasite


They Came

Darkness falls across the sky,
Beams of light hit the earth,
No one knows why,
They came with wrath,
and birth,

Millions of miles they travelled,
and landed here on earth,
Living in the woodlands,
feeding on the wildlife,
They scavenged,
as they gave birth,

The screams were heard,
from across the seas,
As they devoured the innocent,
and brought us to our knees,
injecting venom,
spreading disease,

They quickly spread,
throughout the world,
Devouring the souls,
now living dead,
As we fight for survival,
with water and bread,
while those infected,
are eating flesh,
of those not dead,

The only thing,
that wasn't infected,
The venomous creatures,
had not injected,
devoured,
poisoned,
digested themselves,
This is a day,
from living hell.

They Came Part2

Scientists and visionaries,
search for mercenaries,
across the desert plains,
Searching for days,
through the heat,
and the haze,
They finally reach,
a fortified cave,
none would enter,
but the brave,

For they knew,
if they did nothing,
then all would die to,
Not just the human race,
but the planet,
would fall from grace,
These creatures that came,
from the sky,
to inject their disease,
of self destruction,
starvation,
a thirst,
The blood ,
the flesh,
they hear your pulse,
Living or dead,
nothing was safe,
The underground tunnels,
where the rats once roamed,
all that was left,
now skull and bones,

To create a cure for the sick,
from the venomous itch,
as the poison,
ran through their veins,
Running around,
for the food they'd found,
scavenging,
over dead remains,
eating with a thirst,
but this was something worse,
one bite,
one scratch,
one kiss from the infected,
would take it's toll,
as if you were injected,

These creatures,
these parasites,
Stayed out of the way,
during the day,
and only came out at night,
When there was no light,
and you were in bed sleeping,
for they knew,
there was easier prey,
during the night,
not day,
Less resistance,
to the sting,
the twitch,
of the venomous itch,
As they injected time and again.

They Came Part3

It's week four,
and it's all out war,
The army had desperately,
tried to even the score,
Shooting them down,
til they hit the floor,
but there were to many,
to many to attack,
They fell down,
but came back,
Bombs, explosions,
the mushroom cloud,
Nothing would stop them,
as they swarmed like bees,
Like locusts through a field,
devouring with ease,

The army had deserted,
left for the hills,
leaving the people behind,
for the creatures to kill,
No one could save them,
and no one will,
At least not until,
the scientists figure it out,
A cure for the venom,
for the spread of disease,
Typhoid,
Cholera,
The plague had begun,
contaminated water,
ran with blood,
from the Valley springs,
to the empty hood,

Few were untouched now,
and food was short,
Water was collected in buckets,
from the rain they'd caught,
Living in colonies,
up in the hills,
Or across the desert plains,
Some fell to their knees,
for one last prayer,
In the hope that someone,
is listening up there,
Others would gather wood,
stones to build,
using every man,
woman,
child who could,

They didn't know,
how long they'd have to holdout,
for someone to come,
To save them from the nightmare,
that had begun,
Before they die beneath the sun,
or the creature would come,
The elderly were tired and weary,
and the children would cry,
as their mothers would say,
" Come here baby",
holding the children,
tight in their arms,
praying for protection,
safe from harm,

An eerie silence,
fell across the land that night,
The moon was up,
and no cloud in sight,
volunteers would take it in turns,
to patrol the barricades,
Those who were strong,
those who were brave,
and the fires were lit,
in the desert caves,
While some dug,
the shallow graves,
To bury the ones,
who were to stupid or brave.

The Break Through (They Came Part4)

Eight weeks have past,
and the colonies wonder,
How much longer,
could this last,
Food was running short,
and rumours were rife,

The scientists had captured,
one of the humans infected,
by the parasite,
And they'd carried out tests,
dissecting with a knife,
To save the human race,
life,

The sun is out,
and it's beating down,
Waters drying out,
as they were hit by a drought,
Tempers were running high,
No one knew what was going on,
beyond the barricade,
What had happened,
to the creatures,
that came to invade,

The mercenaries had left,
the safety of the compound,
In search for medicines,
food,
water,
or people still living,
trying to escape,
from the creatures,

As the mercenaries,
hit the town,
something quite odd,
there was no noise,
no sound,
As they took a look around,

Only skeletons where left,
on the ground,
No sign of life at all,
did the creatures,
die,
and fall,
Or had they moved on,
to another site,
To begin another fight,
Injecting the eggs and venom,
of the parasite.




Copyright © 2013 John Bevan

Thursday 2 May 2013

The Day Poetry Died (Educated Arrogance)




Fallen by the masters,
Dissected by the Educated arrogance,
Poetry was Destroyed,
Desecrated at a glance,

The dreams in ones mind,
written down line by line,
For people to relate,
Believe,
See,

The well read,
Readers,
Educated arrogance,
Writing what we believe and feel,
within the minds sight,
The Pain,
Anger,
Rage,
Visions,
All seems real,

To create new worlds,
And make their own decisions,
A means,
A way to heal,
The Rhyme,
Beat,
Pace,
Something you can feel,

The Etiquette and Grace,
What's being said,
means more,
Like a slap across the face,
It hits you,
What is said,
Means more to me,
than the form,

I don't care,
Whether you understand it or not,
It's how It feels,
That makes it real,
Not if it's similar to before,
This is my vision,
I write down the things that I see,
Hear,
Listen,

These are my Visions,
How I feel,
How you read this,
is up to you,
We all have our methods,
points of view,
How you dissect,
with an incision,
Scalpel in hand like I'm sick,
Well I am sick,
Sick of the Educated arrogance,

You need to think deeper,
Not just at a glance,
There's more to this message,
Given the chance,
Thinking they know more than you,
They haven't a clue,

A way to release,
To be free,
This was the day poetry died,
for you and me,
When Educated arrogance,
was set free. 

Copyright © 2013 John Bevan